


Santa Claws

by Hokee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Severus Snape, Christmas, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Pre-Canon, Pre-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokee/pseuds/Hokee
Summary: Harry Potter had always believed in Santa Claus.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape
Comments: 10
Kudos: 123
Collections: Snarry Christmas 2020





	Santa Claws

**Author's Note:**

> Evening! I know I am a day late, but I still wanted to get something out within the Holiday season! 
> 
> Happy Holidays and I hope wherever you are that you are safe and warm and not letting 2020 bring you down!

Harry Potter had always believed in Santa Claus, ever since he could remember. Even now at ten, he held onto that belief, grasping it with both hands and refusing to give it up. No matter what the Dursley's might say or think.

He stared at the delicate Santa ornament, shimmery red glass broken in half, on the shelf above his cot and snorted softly to himself.

Besides, Harry knew for a fact that they got Santa all wrong. Everyone, including the Dursley's, said that Santa was an old man, with a long fluffy white beard, fat and jolly. He knew the real Santa was the exact opposite, he had seen so himself a couple of years back.

In reality, Santa was tall and thin, dressed all in black. He had no long white beard and what hair he did see was straight, jet black, and oily. There was not an ounce of jolly, and his smile looked like it had hurt.

Santa also didn't have any reindeer, he actually had snakes. Santa had said so in his letters. ' _The snakes are being their unruly and dunderheaded selves, I have had to give no less than eight detentions this week alone._ ' Why Santa gave out detention for a punishment he didn't know, he had thought only his teachers had done that. 

The picture of a bunch of snakes wearing small Santa hats snugly attached to their heads and tiny tinsel scarfs hanging around their necks, hissing in laughter as Santa lectured them on proper Christmas etiquette danced in Harry's head. 

His loud huff of laughter echoed around the small space and he clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and fearful, flitting to his cupboard door as if he could see beyond, deeper into the house where the Dursley's were soon going to begin their hectic day of last-minute travel planning for the holiday. He slowly released his breath, his chest tight with the air caught in his lungs, and forced his limbs to loosen when no angry bellow or thudding feet came down the stairs. 

It was the early morning of Christmas Eve and he soon had to be up and ready to make the Dursley's their breakfast. Dudley always wanted his pancakes shaped like snowmen and those always took forever with their intricate details. 

He tried to tell the time by how much light filtered through underneath the door and found that it was still really dark, maybe he had enough time to take another look at Santa's past letters. They always cheered him up when he saw his name in the green cursive ink.

He flopped over onto his stomach, reaching over and under the far side of his cot, and pulled out his small box of secret treasures that he kept hidden. It was partially filled with what most people would think as useless trash; broken toy soldiers, crumpled pictures that he had drawn in crayon when he was younger, and the letters that Santa had sent him.

The handwriting on the paper was sharp and spiky. It would have been intimidating if not for the concerned words scrawled across the letter. The black ink, only disrupted by strange doodles of different plants that he had never seen before on the sides in green. It kinda read like a grocery list, as if Santa was multitasking, with words like _M_ _istlethorn_ and _H_ _olly Leaves_ scribbled hastily under the pictures. It was probably why he had to check his naughty and nice list twice.

His finger carefully followed the outline of the spiky leaves in the dim light and he wished he could see them for real. He wondered if they were as sharp as they looked or if they would be smooth like oak leaves.

His eyes roamed over the letter, soaking in the words that he has read over and over again.

The Dursley's did get two things right, as surprising as that was. Santa did in fact have elves. The little beings did everything asked of them. They would bring Santa his tea and his scrolls. They were also in charge of cooking and cleaning, all in-between making toys for Christmas. Harry wished he had that kind of time management. His chores always took so long.

' _The elves have continued to thrust a plum pudding upon us that I have no doubt you will enjoy when you eventually join us here._ ' A tingly, excited feeling bubbled in his stomach. Santa expected him to visit! He didn't know when he would get to visit the North Pole, but surely he would get to go soon. The letter was from last year after all.

He couldn't wait to meet Santa officially, nor could he contain his excitement in seeing Christmas magic in action! He wondered if it was at all similar to the random things that happened around him, like accidentally turning his teacher's hair blue. Maybe he actually belonged at the North Pole with Santa. That would be nice.

Harry spread the letter onto his lap and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. Santa's words of, ' _I understand that it may be tough right now, but be assured that your living conditions will not be permanent, Mr. Potter. I am working to remove you from your family's care, but it is taking far longer than I had hoped._ ' His vision blurred and he forced his hands under his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. He didn't think that Santa was the kind of guy to give false promises. He believed in Santa and he let the hopeful words take root.

'... _included with this letter is a balm that you will find most helpful when you find yourself-'_ The words cut off there and Harry glances at the blackish-green bruise formed around his wrist and knows what Santa was going to say. ' _I know that it may be hard to adhere to, but I ask that you do not risk yourself further. I implore you, to think before you act. If you must continue to provoke, do so subtly. I can assure you the results are most satisfying._ '

And the most important thing that the Dursley's got right about Santa was that he did, in fact, know everything. Knew if he was asleep or awake or hurt or planning petty revenge at the Dursley's; like planting the wrong color flowers in the garden and still winning the neighborhood contest.

Aunt Petunia's face was hilarious, all pinched yet trying to act the gracious winner. He still couldn't sit properly for a day after that, but maybe Santa was right, subtle was the best course of action.

Light footsteps were heard from above and Harry scrambled to gather his letters and stuff them back in the box. He was just able to throw the box back under his bed when the footsteps stopped outside.

"Up, Boy! C'mon. Up!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice echoed in the small space. Her words punctuated by sharp raps upon the door.

Harry groaned, quietly dragging his feet to the door. He really didn't want to start the day; wanted to be able to sleep in just once. Another rap on the door and he picked up speed not actually wanting to incite his Aunt’s frying pan.

"Finally!" Petunia snapped. "Did you _want_ to ruin Christmas?"

"No, Aunt Petunia." Harry said, hoping he sounded contrite.

Harry followed his Aunt into the kitchen where he got his first chance to check the time on the heavy wooden clock mounted on the wall opposite the oven. ' _6:15_ ' and it was already looking to be a long day.

He had gotten Dudley's snowman pancakes, complete with chocolate chip eyes and blueberry buttons, done by the time running could be heard from the staircase. Dudley never got up this early, though his birthday and Christmas tended to be the exceptions.

"Duddykins, after breakfast, go put on the suit your Auntie gave you. You'll want to look your best today."

Harry watched Dudley grumble his response as he shoveled the pancakes in his mouth, spraying syrup and food bits all over the table, and had to turn away. Maybe he would get his appetite back after everyone left to go to Aunt Marge's Christmas party.

His stomach growled, ignoring the sick feeling he had whenever he looked at Dudley, so he finished his pancake slowly, enjoying the blueberries that he was allowed to put in. He wasn't too worried to finish in a rush as he knew his Uncle Vernon wouldn't wake, missing breakfast until it was almost time to leave. Something about saving his appetite for the Dursley traditional meal.

All in all, it was a more or less, calm morning, at least until Uncle Vernon came stomping down the stairs. He was dressed and seemingly ready for the party and his face turned pinched, mustache twitching when he saw Harry sitting at the table.

Uncle Vernon sent Dudley up to his room to change with a look and a nod towards the stairs. Dudley gave Harry a gleefully smug look and bound off to get dressed, leaving the table covered with his plate and sticky handprints. Harry could just picture the syrup covered walls trailing towards Dudley's room.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped and Harry instinctively looked up and at realizing his mistake at his Uncle's reddening face, looked down at his own socked feet instead. 

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing none too gently and he fought to stand as still as possible.

"We will be back here no later than five." The gruff tones had Harry nodding quickly, wanting to get this over with and for them to leave already. "While we are gone there will be no funny business, you understand me?" 

Harry grit his teeth when his Uncle shook him to punctuate his words. "Yes, Uncle Vernon. No funny business."

The shaking stopped and Harry released his breath, relieved, when the hand on his shoulder followed.

"Go pack up the car. We need to be on the road soon if we are to make it in time." Harry glanced at his Aunt, who paid him no attention, as she scribbled quickly on a paper.

His Uncle shoved him towards the living room and the brightly wrapped boxes by the door and he got the picture. "Okay, Uncle Vernon."

Dudley rushed past him, almost tripping him, to be the first in the car. He was only too glad that his cousin was distracted, almost jumping in place to get to Aunt Marge's, than to bother with him.

"Dad told me that Auntie got me a new GameBoy!" Dudley cheered, pulling on the locked door handle in his excitement.

Cuz Dudley certainly needed _another_ one of those. "That's nice Dudley." Harry said as he fought the packages that wanted to tip and tilt out of his arms.

He was just able to put the presents into the backseat beside Dudley when his Aunt and Uncle came outside, jangling keys and bundling themselves deeper into thick coats. 

The paper his Aunt was writing on was waved in his face and Harry had to lean back a bit to stop himself from going cross-eyed.

"These are to be completed by the time we get back. If I find one thing on this list that hasn't been done, you will not like the consequences." Aunt Petunia forced the paper into his hands and went to get into the car, sparing him one last hawkeyed glance as if she thought he was plotting something. 

Uncle Vernon turned towards him but he was saved from whatever he was going to say when Aunt Petunia shouted out, "Vernon dear! Get in the car, we have a long trip and you know how bad the traffic is in London."

He turned towards his wife and then back at Harry, wagging a finger in his face. Harry was getting tired of things being forced into his vision. "No funny business, Boy. I'm warning ya."

And then they were off. It was almost a dream come true. He stared at the empty driveway, heart pounding. They were gone for the day. The whole day!

It was nice having the house to himself. There were no critical eyes watching his every move, nor harsh words or the threat of violence. He didn't have to be on his guard, able to take his time as he cleaned and did his chores. As long as they were done by the time they got back, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He looked at the list and it was just filled with stuff he had already assumed. Clean the house, finish last-minute decorating, bake cookies, laundry, and shoveling and salting the driveway.

He looked out the window through the curtains and decided to get that out of the way first before the ice and snow got worse. 

He rubbed at his arms and went to grab the bucket of salt and snow shovel.

It took a while with some patches freezing harder than others and he had to keep blowing into his hands or they would cramp, but pretty soon he was finished. He quickly salted the walk and looked across the street to Ms. Figg's place. Her cats were jumping and dodging the snow and he sighed.

The bucket was lighter than when he started but he figured he had enough to do another driveway. He took one last look towards the warm house, where he could be inside baking cookies, and turned away to get started.

Ms. Figg's house always had a weird smell surrounding it, even from outside. He figured it was from all the cats. There was always like ten to fifteen hanging around at any given time.

The same cats who saw him crossing the street towards them started making their way to him in excitement. Their tails were high in the air and they wound between his legs, nuzzling hello.

He bent down to pet them as they meowed and purred. "Yes, hello to you guys too." They were all very affectionate. The only one that tended to be mean to anyone, including the other cats, was a bigger black one.

He didn't see that one too often, so it probably wasn't one of Ms. Figg's. It had a torn ear and its tail was slightly bent as if it had gotten into fights. It was probably a street cat. He looked around for it, hoping to say hello. After all, strays had to stick together.

When he didn't find the cat hanging around a lump formed in his throat. He hoped it was okay. It was colder at night now and with how black the night sky was, the cat blended into the dark. What if someone didn't see it crossing the street?

He put all his nervous energy into shoveling the walk, being mindful of where the cats lay on the few patches of snowless ground there was.

He was sure the cat was fine. It was a scraper, commanding its presence be known when it deemed to show itself.

He was just finishing up the salting when a cat rubbed up against his legs once and then started to walk away. He looked down towards it and felt the smile spread across his face, relief making him giddy.

Good, it -oh he- he was safe and sound. Harry looked away as the cat finished its business and tried to stifle his smile. He was just so relieved. He glanced back over at the cat, who was now sitting primely up on the brick divider, licking its paw. 

It was skinnier than usual and had a few more scratches than before, but he seemed just as demanding as before. It yowled at him and Harry quickly finished the last of the walk. There, now Ms. Figg didn't need to worry about slipping and breaking her hip.

He gave the cats all one last pat and ear rub and started making his way back toward his own house. He stopped at the fence and went to pet the stray and thought better of it, instead he tried to warm up his arms and said, "I'm glad you're safe."

The cat apparently wanted to make sure he got home safe for he followed him and Harry debated on the merits of letting the cat into the house. He could feed him and give him a warm place to sleep, at least until everyone got back home.

Harry nodded his head and opened the door, gesturing for the cat to enter first. "Okay you can come in, but just don't tell the Dursley's I let you in here." 

When the cat didn't enter, Harry opened the door wider and the black cat gave him a look that said, 'I'll do what I want.' He stayed seated at the front door and Harry huffed a laugh. It was stubborn, he'd give him that. The wind kicked up, a chill in the air, and he saw the cat shiver once and then freeze in its spot refusing to look up at him. 

Harry lifted an eyebrow and he watched as the cat seemed to think and then it obviously came to a decision as it smugly lifted its head and walked into the house. The cat obviously had no problems entering the house on his own terms. He swished his tail for good measure and gave Harry a bored look as it jumped on the couch, curling into a black ball and ignoring Harry as he started on the next job from his chores list.

The laundry came next as that was over and done with fairly quick. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after _11:30_. Okay. So lunch and then clean the house. After that, it was all the fun stuff that Aunt Petunia didn't care for. He had to bake the cookies for Santa and hang up the stockings and the garland of tinsel needed to be set up. 

Harry looked in the cupboards to find something that both the cat and he could eat and found an older can of tuna. That would work. He would make himself a tuna salad sandwich. 

That decided he got to work, the cat continued to nap on the couch, the only sign of movement was a twitching ear. Harry gathered a bottle of water, a small bowl, the plate with his sandwich on it, and the can of half-filled tuna in his arms and dumped them onto the wooden coffee table in front of the couch.

He poured half the bottle into the bowl and set it down on the floor beside him. The cat lifted its head and looked at him and Harry tapped the bowl to get its attention there. "This is for you." Harry put the tin beside the bowl and said, "This too."

Harry turned to his own food and slyly watched out of the corner of his eye as the cat stretched and after making sure that Harry wasn't looking, jumped down and began to lap at the water. 

Harry smiled around his sandwich, proud that the cat was eating and drinking. Though he didn't seem feral, the cat wouldn't let him pet him and only gave attention when it wanted, he seemed housebroken. His smile dimmed when he thought of the kitty getting kicked out of its warm home. How could anyone do that? It acted tame enough. 

"Did you have a name?" Harry asked words murmured. The twitch of an ear was his only reply. "I could give you one. I know I'm not your owner or anything, but we could pretend that we belong to each other." 

Harry tentatively reached out his hand and placed it, oh so gently, on the cat's back. When he didn't scratch or bite him, Harry started petting him slowly. "I would feed you every day, and you can sleep by the fire. No more worrying if the people around you would pull your tail or kick at you. No more yelling and mean names." The cat was stiff under his hand and Harry kept petting until he finally relaxed and went back to eating the tuna.

Harry thought about names, comfortable silence surrounding them as they ate slowly. The cat was almost pure black, with tiny patches of white around his feet and the non-torn ear. He looked towards the fireplace and Santa came to mind. Sootball maybe? But, he was also mean to the other cats and with so many scars he obviously got into a lot of catfights. Oh! That one fit! 

"How bout it, Coal? You up to pretending?" Harry held his breath as the cat turned to give him a haughty look. He meowed and raised his butt in the air demanding more scritches. Harry let out a laugh, feeling lighter than he could ever remember being, and gave into the demands of being a cat owner.

Their lunch finished and with Coal done napping, Harry started in on cleaning the house, pointing out the different rooms to the following cat when he got to them.

"This is my cousin Dudley's room," Harry said, pushing the door open against the sea of trash and toys scattered about. 

Coal let out an indignant meow and picked his way through the mess to jump on the unmade bed. Dudley's room always took the longest to clean.

"Ah Coal, no!" Harry yelped when Coal had started to unsheath his claws and scratch at the bed. He rushed to try to stop Coal and tripped over a Hot Wheels truck falling on his face. He looked up from the floor to see Coal have one paw in the air and his tiny face scrunched up like he was constipated. 

If cats had eyebrows, Harry woulda sworn Coal's were raised, mocking him. He slowly sat up, one eye on Coal to make sure he wouldn't destroy anything, and started to pick up the trash and put away the toys into their respective bins. He threw the Hot Wheels that had tripped him into the bin harder than he should have, but thankfully it didn't break. He shooed Coal out of Dudley's room and back down the stairs towards the ground floor.

The living room was the only one left and decided now was the time for music. He found the remote to the radio in a drawer and flicked through the different stations until he found one that was playing Christmas music all day. It was just loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. He was humming along when he saw Coal slink back to the couch and Harry intercepted him mid-jump.

Coal panicked for a second but was soon caught up in Harry's twirls, sways, and spins. He laughed at the wide-eyed look on the cat and brought him closer to his chest when he saw that Coal wouldn't attack him. Harry swayed gently, following the words of Frank Sinatra's 'I'll Be Home For Christmas'.

Coal's bent tail was twitching, the only sign of agitation and Harry scooped Coal more firmly in his arms, supporting his butt and back. Coal calmed down and had even tentatively placed his head into the curve of his neck. Harry let out a little giggle at the soft fur brushing under his chin and continued dancing, more slowly this time, not wanting to spook the older cat.

With the classic Christmas music playing and Coal softly purring in his ear, Harry never wanted this to end. He sighed, brushed his hands through thick fur, and gave a quick hug to the cat in his arms. When the song ended Harry gently placed Coal on the couch and coaxed a fire to life in the fireplace.

Since he had just cleaned the living room yesterday, there wasn't much to do. Coal jumped down from the couch and followed after him as he went to get the last couple boxes of decorations from the back of his cupboard. Thankfully all the roof and higher-up decorations have been in place since the beginning of the month and all he had left were the Stockings, the garland, and a few knickknacks.

Harry pulled out the garland, wanting to get that over and done with, and found resistance as he pulled it over to the fireplace. He looked back and saw Coal had the end in-between his jaws and was being dragged along the floor. Harry laughed at the sight.

"So, you wanna help too, huh?" Harry asked, setting the garland down. He went back to the boxes and pulled out a Santa hat and a small strand of tinsel. He placed the hat on his own head, but the tinsel he fastened around Coal's neck like a loose collar. "There. Now we're both ready for the Holiday!"

Harry watched as Coal bat at the extra tinsel that dangled from his neck and when he realized that it wasn't coming off, he glared at Harry. He snorted at the look and went back to pick up the garland.

Garland and the gaudy light-up Santa that Aunt Petunia bought two years back were placed upon the fireplace and the stockings were all that was left.

He pulled out the three decorated stockings and spread them evenly on the fireplace. He fingered the soft material decorated with his family's names and wished that he was finally welcomed, just once to be treated with hugs and warm words. He loved them, or well, maybe it was just the concept of family that cared for each other. 

A loud meow jolted him from his thoughts and he turned to see what got Coal so worked up. The cat was half-in, half-out of a decoration box and when Harry gently pulled him free, a stocking with his name was clutched in Coal's mouth. Harry's face scrunched up, confused. That box was empty before and he certainly didn't remember ever having a stocking of his own. 

He looked at Coal, who stared back, and then let out another meow and swiped at the tinsel pom poms. His heart was pounding and all of a sudden everything seemed a bit too much. Coal knocked off a pom pom and gave chase after it, skittering along the wooden floor and under the couch.

He looked at the stocking that read, ' _Harry_ ' in green and gold glitter glue and reached down for it with shaking hands. The stocking was soft, decorated with thin plastic cut out in the shape of jars and there was different colored glitter inside. Felt candy canes adorned the top and Harry thought this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He swallowed around the tightness in his throat and his eyes glid toward the fireplace. He couldn't put it up there, but he still wanted Santa to see it. He would hang it in his cupboard, Santa had been in there before so he would surely know to check again.

He hugged the stocking to him and listened as Coal continued to chase the pom pom. He quickly hung up the stocking under the shelf across his cot and was back out in the living room in less than a minute. He caught Coal round the middle and lifted him towards his face.

"Thank you, Coal." He placed a kiss on the stunned cat’s head and hugged him close. "Maybe I should change your name, coal tends to be for the bad kids, but you're not a bad kitty."

Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer started playing and Harry's laugh was watery and thin. Coal was looking at him like he was nuts and maybe he was, but he just couldn't help the feeling that Coal had done something special just for him.

He would have to do something special for Coal as well. Maybe he could set up a warm shelter in the tool garage, it wasn't like Uncle Vernon ever used it.

"Thank you." He gave Coal another squeeze, he didn't think another kiss would be a good idea as it already looked like Coal was a second away from a heart attack. He placed the cat back down on the floor and Coal stayed stuck where he was, no longer interested in the pom pom.

He looked around the room and gave a nod of his head. Another two things from his list were done. This last one wasn't much of a chore. Harry enjoyed baking, stirring the cookie dough, and combining a bunch of ingredients to make a very tasty treat.

"If you continue to be good, I'll let you lick the spoon!" Harry teased the cat and when Coal looked up offended, he whispered conspiratorially, "It's the best part."

He left coal standing there, ears back and with a pinched look on his feline features, as he made his way to the kitchen. He had some cookies to bake!

He had all his measuring cups and ingredients set out on the table and was just starting to mix the dough base together when the door to the kitchen creaked open. 

He smothered his smile when Coal hopped up onto the table and sat away from all the baking supplies.

"You done moping? It was just a kiss." Harry rubbed Coal's head, who was ignoring him. Harry would be offended himself if he didn't hear the little motor running coming from Coal.

"Here, would this makeup for it?" Harry picked off a small piece of cookie dough and placed it near Coal's paws.

He didn't think it would, but to his surprise, Coal bent down and sniffed at the dough, eating it when he deemed it safe. Harry hummed and ate a small chunk of the dough himself. He looked into the bowl and gave it another stir. Coal bat at the bottle of vanilla and he thought he probably _should_ add a little bit more vanilla to it.

Harry added the vanilla and chocolate chips under the watchful eyes of Coal. He seemed oddly fixated on Harry as he stirred and mumbled the lyrics to the Christmas music that was still playing.

Harry laid out trays covered in foil and began to shape the dough into balls, placing them an inch or so apart. Once he had three trays full and no dough left he put the first one into the oven and started cleaning up. The dishes were cleaned and put away by the time the first batch was done.

He swapped the tray for the second batch and looked at the clock. He still had a few hours before the Dursley's were due back home and with the third batch waiting to cook, his chores were done.

The smell of the cookies baking and cooling spread through the kitchen and the warmth of the oven made his face all toasty red. Coal was laying down on the table, paws curled under him to form a loaf shape. He snickered and said, "Stay. I'll be right back, you guard the cookies."

When Harry came back, a small shoebox and some paper under his arms, he narrowed his eyes at Coal. The cat was still in the same place as when he had left, but when he looked over at the cookies that were cooling, one was missing from the tray. He looked closer at the tray and he didn't see any cat prints in the foil nor any crumbs of a hastily pilfered treat.

He would let it go, _this time_ , as they had made plenty of cookies and plunked his box onto the table right next to Coal.

He rummaged through the box looking for his crayons, pulling out a few colors. Sure, they weren't perfect, most broken in half due to Dudley's manhandling, but they were still usable and they were still his.

He spread the paper, trying to smooth the wrinkles, in front of him and laid the black, green, and red crayons closest to him. The others were off to the side being swat back and forth by Coal. The minute timer beeped and he got up to swap the final tray.

Coal's ears swiveled toward him when he cursed under his breath, the tray burning his hand when the potholder slid a few inches from the edge. He quickly placed the cookies on the stovetop, turned off the oven, and then went to run his hand under cold water. He knew the drill by now, having been burnt enough times. 

Coal had stood up and was now staring at him intently, seeming on edge and Harry wrapped a wet dishrag around his hand. He walked back to the table and showed Coal his hand to reassure him. It was red and would probably blister a bit, but nothing life-threatening. "See, not too bad. 'ave had worse."

Harry placed his injured hand in his lap letting it be soothed by the cold water from the towel. With his other hand, he pat Coal and forced his butt back down onto the table. "I'm okay. Promise, go back to eating the crayons."

Coal scoffed, ears back, telling Harry just what the cat thought of that statement. Which one though, Harry had no clue.

He decided to get back to his drawing. He wanted it to be done by tonight since it was a gift for Santa. He had decided on drawing the scene from Santa's letter. The one with his snakes in detention.

Coal had laid back down when Harry showed no more signs of distress and was soon distracted by watching Harry draw a black blob. Harry caught his eyes and pointed at the drawing. "That's Santa." Harry continued to draw some green S's sitting at tiny desks, hissing in laughter. "And those are his Christmas Snakes. He doesn't actually have reindeer, ya know?"

The cat was back to staring at him like he was nuts, but Harry knew he was right. Santa told him so himself. He couldn't fault Coal though, growing up surrounded by people who believed Santa was a fat jolly man.

The next thing he drew was a chalkboard with the word ' _Detention_ ' on it and then he drew the little Santa hats and tinsel scarves, like what Coal was still wearing, on the snakes.

He made two smaller blobs, also in black next to Santa and pointed them out to Coal. "This one's me and that one's you!"

He drew little glasses on the medium blob and as he did so, he explained to Coal about how Santa said he was trying to get him away from here and how Harry had hoped that meant that he could live with Santa.

"Maybe Santa would take both of us? You'd have to promise not to chase the snakes though, no matter how tough you are." Harry gave Coal a stern look, who only looked back impassively as if he was too good to chase snakes. "Don't think I don't know it's on your mind. I watched you chase a pom pom across the living room for like half an hour."

Coal's eyes narrowed, let out a huff, and then turned his head away from Harry. Mhm. Harry knew who won this battle.

With all the cookies cooled, Harry stuffed one in his mouth and moaned at the chocolate. He loved cookies and chocolate chip ones were the best. He stashed two more into his pockets for later and then set the rest on the platter in the center of the table. He would bring them out to the living room when it got a bit closer to _5:00_.

Harry finished his drawing marking, ' _For: Santa_ ' and ' _Love, Harry and Coal_ ', after some deliberation, in the bottom right corner. After all, Coal did help by slobbering all over the crayons so he deserved some of the credit too.

He showed Coal the finished drawing and waiting with bated breath for his reaction. Coal stared at the picture, tattered ear flicking, and let out a short 'Mrow'. Harry took that to mean that it was the best drawing he had ever seen and beamed, rubbing Coal's ears and down his back. "Glad you approve!"

"We have a bit more time left, what do ya wanna do?" Harry cocked his head to the side in question, looking at the cat who copied him. They were both staring at each other sideways when Harry caught Coal's eyes sharpen to slits and his own widened in response.

He only had a few seconds warning before Coal pounced at him and Harry was out of the kitchen, howling with laughter, as Coal chased after him and into the living room.

Harry collapsed onto the floor in front of the couch, panting for breath and warmth running through his veins, and glanced around the room. Tinsel and lights sparkled and glowed softly in the growing dark. The fire crackled and popped and the smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven filtered into the living room, tickling his nose. Christmas was always a beautiful time of year. 

He looked back towards Coal who was once again napping on the couch in front of the fire, tuckered out from following and chasing him around all day and his heart grew heavy. He wished every day could be like this.

Coal was snoring softly and Harry was just setting out the cookies on the living room table when he heard a car door slam. The cat’s ears flinched and they both turned their heads to the door. Harry swore and grabbed Coal into his arms, hurrying to his cupboard.

"You have to be quiet now Coal, okay?" Harry made shushing sounds and put his finger to his mouth for good measure. It would do neither of them any good if the Dursley's found out that Harry brought a stray cat into the house.

Coal hopped onto his cot and curled up into a ball and Harry hoped that meant that he was going back to sleep.

He shut his cupboard door tight and went to open the front door. Dudley was the first to burst through the door and the force knocked Harry off balance and to the ground. 

Dudley's new shooting game could be heard from the living room and Harry hoped that he didn't eat all the cookies before his parents even saw them. That would be just his luck.

Aunt Petunia entered next, nose held high in the air as she scrutinized the new decorations and clean house. She didn't say anything at all so Harry figured that he did a good job.

Uncle Vernon was the last one in slamming the door shut and grumbling about traffic. Harry could see when Uncle Vernon had first noticed the cookies for he made his way over to them and plopped down on the couch right where Coal had been sleeping.

Uncle Vernon bit into a cookie and moaned. "You really outdid yourself this year, Petunia dear." He pat his stomach and looked around at the twinkling lights, eyes landing on Harry still by the door.

"What are you still standing there uselessly for Boy, get out of my sight!" Harry skittered for his cupboard door, leaning on it when he got inside.

Once he was safe inside and able to calm his racing heartbeat he looked for Coal who was nowhere to be found. He suddenly had the fear that Coal had somehow escaped and would be found by the Dursley's. He couldn't breathe properly until a quiet meow from the far side of his cot reached his ears.

Harry rushed to the other side in two steps and found Coal sniffing through his treasure box, batting at the broken soldiers and trying to paw at Santa's letters.

"C'mon Coal." Harry picked up the cat and placed him near his pillow. He cleaned up the mess and righted his box, stuffing it back under his bed. 

He started to lay down, but at the crinkle of paper coming from one of his pockets, Harry remembered his present for Santa.

He unfolded his drawing and placed it on the stool next to his bed. He reached into the opposite pocket and pulled out the two cookies he had stashed earlier, leaving one beside the present. Coal looked at him funny and Harry had the urge to justify himself. "You're supposed to leave cookies and milk out for Santa."

Harry broke off a piece of cookie that had no chocolate and held it out for Coal to eat. Coal sniffed his hand, whiskers tickling his palm and they ate in peace.

Harry laid back down, eyes on his stocking, and daydreamed of someone who would care for him. Coal made a little chirrup noise and walked on top of his chest to get near his neck. Harry oof'ed out his breath, he really was a heavy cat for being so scrawny. 

Coal curled up in a big black ball almost blending with his sheet, tail over his snout, and started up a soothing purr when Harry pets him down his curved back. Harry leant his head so he was carefully touching Coal and drifted off. Maybe this was what it was like to be loved?

Harry fell asleep to the warmth of Coal's comforting weight, soft breathing, and a contented purr rumbling in his ears.

Harry heard rustling, felt a steady hand on his forehead pushing his hair back and taking off his glasses. He saw a flash of black, but his eyes were too tired to open properly and he fell back asleep to a deep baritone whispering, "Merry Christmas, Harry."

When Harry woke next he instantly noticed how cold his cupboard was. There were no kitty snores nor quiet purring. "Coal?"

Harry reached for his glasses when there was no meow in reply and was disappointed when he found his cupboard empty. He lifted his knees to his chest and laid his arms on top.

Glitter caught his eye and on his stool lay a small box, wrapped pristinely in green wrapping paper, little gold balls with wings flying and zooming across the paper and under the tied black ribbon coming up over the sides of the box to form a bow.

He smiled when he saw the letter marked ' ** _S_ **'in spiky black handwriting. He was disappointed that he missed him this year, he had hoped to give him the- when he looked to where he left the drawing on the stool near his cot and couldn't find it, he whooped in cheer!

"Keep it down in there Boy! Some of us are trying to have a quiet morning!"

He quieted, but he didn't let Uncle Vernon ruin this for him, he practically vibrated on the spot. Santa had gotten his present after all! He hoped he really liked it! His eyes went back to the letter and he picked it up as gently as possible, not wanting to rip the delicate and stiff paper. He couldn't wait to see what his Santa had to say this year!

Before he opened his letter, a meow came from the other side of his cupboard and Harry stared at his stocking in surprise.

He snuck to the stocking not wanting to startle whatever was in there. He peered inside and his eyes widened.

There, inside the stocking was a plush cat that looked suspiciously like Coal, right down to the tinsel scarf. His eyes watered when it meowed at him again. He pulled it out of his stocking, pet its plush head, and placed it on his bed.

His stocking was still half-filled and he was curious about the weird candies that were found within. Something called ' _Fizzy Wizzbees_ ' and ' _Bertie Botts: Every Flavor Beans_ '. He popped a green-colored bean in his mouth and had to spit it right back out. Gah! What the heck is with that flavor? He turned the box over and was that...grass?

Ugh. He carefully put the beans back in the box and set it down on his cot carefully as if it would attack him.

His hands brushed against the letter and he held it to him, running his hand against his name. His eyes started to water over and he clutched the cat plush to his chest. It mrowed at him and he gathered his courage to read the letter.

' _Harry,_

_Another year has passed and I have yet to fulfill my promise to you. I have no words other than to say that this coming year will be full of change for you._

_Coal has told me how well you took care of him. Gave him shelter, food, and even a family. He wanted to say thank you, that he will not forget the kindness you have paid to him. I will give him a loving home until you two meet again. In the meantime, he asks that you take special care of Coal Jr._

_I know that I can not grant your wish for a family just yet, but I hope a picture of your mother when she was your age will be the next best thing until we meet._

_~S._ '

He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Right beside Santa's signature was a small paw print and Harry laughed, feeling a tightness in his chest.

The gold flying balls caught his attention again and his hand shook, Santa's words circling his brain.

He pulled the ribbon and opened the box to see a faded picture and an older book, rough around the edges.

A girl with red hair, aged with time, was smiling up at the camera and her arms were tightly hugging a scowling dark-haired boy. Harry turned the picture around and in scratchy ink the names, ' _Lily E. and Severus. S._ _1969_ ' were scrawled at the bottom.

Harry traced over the people in the picture, the girl's eyes still a vibrant green where everything else was yellowed. His mom. Santa had been able to grant his wish after all. 

His mom may not be with him physically, but she was still here, smiling and teasing the scowling boy.

Harry held Coal Jr. as it meowed and swiveled its ear. The cat was awfully lifelike and Harry smiled. He hoped Coal was happy with Santa and that he would be able to see them soon.

This time he looked carefully at the jelly beans and chose a pink one that tasted of cotton candy. That one wasn't too bad.

Harry heard faint Christmas music playing from the radio in the living room and knew the Dursley's would be gathered around the tree with Dudley cheering over new video games.

He looked towards his decorated stocking and the hurt that he felt at being left out, wasn't as strong.

With his mom smiling up at him, Coal, and his Santa, he knew he had a family waiting for him, no matter how much the time may pass.

-

His uncle had gone absolutely mental. He had dragged everyone out to some dilapidated building on a giant rock in the middle of the sea. Where had Uncle Vernon even met someone who would own a place like this?

The floor was a hard cement, wet with mildew from the storm and humid sea air. There was very little heat, only coming from the barely lit fireplace, and Dudley had claimed the only relatively soft spot, in the form of the rundown couch, the second they all stepped into the rickety-looking shack.

The storm that was brewing and threatening to break when they were ferried over was in full swing now, hammering the walls and wooden door with so much force that Harry was afraid the building would cave in on them. How could anyone sleep with this racket, but with Uncle Vernon's snoring Aunt Petunia was probably used to it. 

Suddenly over the rain and wind, there was a quiet knocking at the door and Harry had the strangest thought of how anyone could be so calm in a raging storm. The next thought was how anyone could even get to this deserted place, the ferries were long closed by now. He stuffed himself further behind the fireplace bricking, hoping Dudley would be the first person seen if the person on the other side were to burst in. He wished he had had enough time to pack Coal Jr. before Uncle Vernon snapped.

He really didn't want to get into trouble for answering the door, but he also didn't want to leave the person in the cold and rain. He gnawed at his lip, trying to decide on what to do. 

The decision was taken out of his hands when he thought he heard some murmuring and then the doorknob started to turn, letting the person into the room to drip all over the wooden floorboards. 

Harry could feel his eyes widen and he took off his glasses to rub the smudges away before setting them back on his face. 

He had seen this man before, years ago. The drenched and scowling appearance did nothing to dissuade him. The hooked nose, all dressed in black, and how the man's eyes softened just a touch, though the fierce frown stayed when the man finally spotted him laying on the side of the dying fireplace. 

"Mr. Potter." The voice was deeper than he had expected, the tone niggling at the back of his brain. His eyes widened, recognition flooding his senses.

He would never be able to forget this man and had always believed. Would never forget the promises that he had said in his letters and the gifts that always seemed to be useful and he scrambled to his feet in excitement.

"Santa?!"


End file.
